Bob Dylan - 'Bootleg Series Vol. 8 - Tell Tale Signs' (Columbia) Released 06/10/2008

Surely it’s about time latter-day Dylan’s vocal chords were recruited for an anti-smoking campaign. Like a geriatric crow with an acute throat condition croaking through a hail of diesel smoke after ingesting a bucket of glue and nails, the weathered voice encountered on the more recent tracks here’s damaged beyond belief; less gravelly than beyond-the-grave. Blast some of that to a kid fumbling with their first cig and they’re guaranteed to be put off for life.

But it’s what Dylan does with this damaged instrument that counts. ‘Tell Tale Signs’ – the eighth instalment in the ongoing, studio off-cuts and live recordings compiling ‘Bootleg Series’ saga– supports the theory that phrasing and timing is more important than range in the singing game. For evidence, check out the stunning 1993 live take of ‘Ring Them Bells’, which softens the ‘Oh Mercy’ original’s stern, preacherly tone with a family bucket’s worth of tender warmth regardless of the fact that the star of the sounds in urgent need of a Strepsil. Or how about the 2003 version of Charley Patton tribute ‘High Water’, the original’s folkie charm transformed into a giddy-upping bundle of barely controlled bar band swagger, with Dylan’s mischievous hollering bringing the tune’s surreal end-of-times vibes to vivid life. Then there’s a 2002 take on bruising 12-bar chug ‘Lonesome Day Blues’, with Dylan letting rip gloriously atop the relentlessly pumping proceedings, sneering and sermonising like it’s 1966 again.    

Most of the folks, though, are probably here for the cuts left off left off 1989’s ‘Oh Mercy’ and Dylan’s “comeback” trilogy, ‘Time Out of Mind’ (1997), ‘Love and Theft’ (2001) and ‘Modern Times’ (2006), which saw the songwriter legend’s stock soar from washed-up semi-obscurity to the omnipresent, multitasking, still vibrant giant of American music he’s known as today. The trio of outtakes from ‘Time Out of Mind’ is particularly dazzling, with the inexplicably shelved, bittersweet beauty of the languid travelogue ‘Red River Shore’ almost matched by the steamy gospel of ‘Marchin’ to the City’. Alternative cuts of ‘Someday Baby’ – the original’s rockabilly boogie slowed down into a wounded, blues-soaked lament – and ‘Can’t Wait’ – fiery, piano-battering fury, with a top-form, high notes-hitting vocal performance to match – are absolute gems. So are the songs Dylan scripted for films both released (the rollicking resignation of ‘Tell Ol’ Bill’ from ‘North Country’, easily equal to the Oscar-winning ‘Things Have Changed’, and the widescreen civil war epic ‘Cross the Green Mountain’ from US TV series ‘Gods and Generals’ that must rank amongst the most touching Dylan tunes ever) and unreleased (the Tom Waits-ian, dusky barn dance sway of ‘Can’t Escape from You’).

The decision to slap a £90 price tag on the limited edition 3-CD set, hence fleecing a big bundle of cash off the type of faithful fans who’d happily fork out some of their hard-earned for a disc of the great man sneezing, has been controversial, to put it mildly. Although some of the standard 2-CD set is mainly of interest to obsessives, it’s a sign of its quality that the shelling out the extra £75 in order to gain access to some more of this sweet stuff becomes fairly appealing prospect to even the more casual Dylan fan.